


Not Your Weapon

by rebeccahoover



Category: Marvel (Comics), The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 11:39:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16953318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebeccahoover/pseuds/rebeccahoover





	Not Your Weapon

The first time Rebecca met Laura, she had a blade to her throat—the knife seeming ridiculously small as Laura brandished her own blades with a  _snikt_.  
  
Having been on the run for a day and a half, time beginning to lose all meaning as Rebecca twisted and turned her way across the city, running from both Reeva and the rioting, she was tired. Exhausted, really. Fatigued, all weary limbs and heavy-lidded eyes, Rebecca found her refuge in a nearby alley next to an empty stairwell.   
  
It wasn’t ideal, she knew this, but she needed to rest, if only for a moment.  
  
Boots dragging along the asphalt, Rebecca made her way over to the nearest solid space, then leaned herself against it. She knew the space was too open, just as she knew the moment she stopped moving, she would become an easy target. But all of those thoughts left her the moment her head touched the wall.  
  
It wasn’t comfortable, her feet still ached, but it was  _something_. For the time being, that was enough. Maybe even more than, because then her eyes began to close, though the second they did, that was when Fade appeared.  
  
Unable to react quick enough, her movements too sluggish, Fade having got the drop on her, Rebecca wheezed and gasped as the invisible mutant became visible, one hand closing around her throat while the other put a blade to it. “Your hands move, and I slit your throat,” he warned, applying further pressure to Rebecca’s trachea with the hand he had closed around it.  
  
Gasping, Rebecca stared defiantly, albeit helplessly. As powerful as she was, in a quickdraw against Fade—who already had a knife pressed to sensitive skin and a strong hand cutting off her air supply—she didn’t stand a chance. Using her abilities took focus and effort. Not only that, but dimensionally twisting something—be it a person or an object—was incredibly taxing. Even if she wanted to do something, which she very much did, she simply couldn’t.  
  
So there she stayed, pinned and being choked out, about to nod and reluctantly accept defeat and whatever punishment would follow when a girl stepped into the entrance of the alleyway behind them, a pair of sharp, long blades pushing out from the spaces between her knuckles.  
  
Wordlessly, the girl—dark of hair, pale of face, petite, dressed all in black, maybe her age or slightly younger, at least from what Rebecca could discern—crept up behind Fade like a shadow, then slashed, tearing both shirt and skin alike.  
  
Startled, only Rebecca having noticed the girl, Fade’s grip loosened on her throat, causing her to fall to the floor, hands clutching at her throat as she sucked in lungfuls of crisp night air. It burned as it went down, but it was a sweet pain. One that Rebecca willingly inflicted upon herself, ignoring the soreness as she gulped the oxygen down.  
  
From her knees, she then watched as Fade whirled on the girl, clearly surprised to find himself in a knife fight, among other things. “You little—!“ he spat out, the curse replaced by a groan as the girl danced away from his furious swiping before using her unclawed hand to send him staggering, knocking him flat out with an upwards strike that had obviously been practiced.  
  
Once Fade was down, she then turned on Rebecca, her countenance neutral as she retracted her claws back into her skin with a  _slikt_. Something Rebecca immediately decided was both simultaneously gross and cool.  
  
“Are you hurt?” The girl asked in a clipped tone.   
  
“No,” Rebecca answered, her voice hoarse.   
  
“You are bleeding,” the girl observed, dropping to her haunches.  
  
“It’s nothing,” Rebecca replied, touching two fingers to the trickle of red running down her neck. It stung, but the cut was shallow. “I’m pretty sure I’ll live,” she quipped, pausing before adding, “thanks to you."  
  
The girl blinked at that, her head canting to the side, locks of long black hair spilling across her shoulder with the movement, her pinched features making it clear she was unused to being met with gratitude. “You’re welcome.”  
  
Rebecca cast a glare at Fade, then, readying herself to make sure he stayed down, partly so he wouldn’t follow her again, partly out of revenge, and partly to send a message back to Reeva: "Don’t send others—or else." But then the girl was at her side, taking her elbow and lifting her up, her strength surprising considering her size.  
  
“That was pretty awesome, you know,” Rebecca commented, Fade and Reeva temporarily forgotten. “And the whole knives for hands thing? Freaking awesome!”  
  
It perhaps wasn’t an appropriate thing to say, but that didn’t stop Rebecca from saying it or grinning after she had. A reaction that was met with a number of confused blinks from the girl, unable to gauge the proper way to respond to that.   
  
“You are not afraid of me,” the girl said, lacking any inflection or expression, leaving Rebecca wondering just what exactly she meant by that.   
  
“You’re kidding, right? Why would I be scared of you? You saved me.”   
  
“That man...” the girl began before trailing off, her nostrils flaring as she sniffed. Assuming it probably had something to do with her clothes, having been stuck in the same outfit—biker boots, high waisted black leggings with a long sleeved turtleneck top tucked into them, and a blue, distressed, leather bolero  jacket—since the bank heist, Rebecca took neither notice or offence. The girl then started up again, this time more matter-of-fact as she said, “You are not human.”  
  
“Nope,” Rebecca replied. “I’m a mutant, same as you.”  _And proud of it_ , Rebecca thought. For all their claims, the Inner Circle didn’t seem to understand that. All their talk of mutant rights and mutant freedom was exactly that: just talk. Well, that and lies. Then, figuring this was as good a time as any, Rebecca offered up her name and a smile, “I’m Rebecca.”  
  
“Laura,” the girl— _Laura_ —replied, sans a smile of her own. She then glanced downward, directing her green-eyed gaze at Fade who was still sprawled out across the filthy floor. “His heart rate is increasing, he will wake up soon. You should leave.”  
  
_And go where_? Rebecca thought. She didn’t regret her decision to leave, it was something that had to happen. Lorna made that perfectly clear in the car as they argued back and forth about the people she killed; a brutal, chaotic act of justice and revenge—or at least that’s how Rebecca saw it. The bankers were mutant-haters. Letting them go would’ve been stupid. It had to end. Okay, so maybe she didn’t have to look so pleased with herself and her handiwork as she decorated the office walls with their insides, changing the colour scheme from white to red, but after being on the receiving end for so long of people like that hurting her, it felt  _good_  to hurt them back. To take back the control that had been stripped from her one year ago when her parents turned on her, calling in Sentinel Services to haul her away like some kind of animal.  
  
The only thing Rebecca did regret was having to leave Andy—the only person who ever truly cared about her.  
  
“Do you have somewhere you can go?” Laura asked, interrupting Rebecca’s wistful thinking.  
  
“Not exactly,” Rebecca answered, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. When she’d dimensionally twisted her way out of the SUV and hit the ground running, she didn’t exactly have a plan. “I guess I’ll just figure something out.”  
  
That answer, however, turned out to be inadequate for Laura, who was now looking at her with a flat, unimpressed stare.   
  
Beyond the alleyway, the streets were on fire. Purifiers were on the hunt, with Sentinel Services and the entirety of the Washington Police Force alongside them, all three factions unified under the Homo sapien  banner with the common goal of apprehending all mutants, regardless of whether they were guilty or not. Laura had seen and fought her way through enough of it before coming across Rebecca. What she hadn’t seen was mutant on mutant violence, which begged the question: Why was Rebecca attacked? But with that question leading into other questions, here didn’t really seem like the time or place to discuss it.   
  
A poor judgement call, maybe, but then, it wasn’t any of Laura’s business. She had done what she thought was right: Saved one life and spared another. “Come with me,” Laura said after a moment. “I have an apartment. It’s safe.” Another poor judgement call, maybe, but people—like Kiden Nixon and her friends—had helped her before without knowing anything about her. The memory serving as a reminder that sometimes you don’t get the chance to know everything about a person before making a decision about them.  
  
“Okay, yeah. Thanks,” Rebecca replied. It wasn’t like she had anywhere else to go. Right now, going with Laura was her best option. “Just let me take care of him first.”   
  
Turning to face Fade, Rebecca raised an arm, fingers bending as she began to make a twisting motion with her hand; however, before she could make Fade wear his insides on his outside, Laura stepped forward, shaking her head in disagreement as she curled her fingers around Rebecca’s wrist, stopping her from doing what she was about to do.  
  
“Don’t.”  
  
“I have to,” Rebecca insisted. “If I don’t, he’ll just come looking for me again.” Maybe this time with Reeva-shaped backup.   
  
“No, you don’t” Laura argued. There was always a choice. And with all the senseless killing today, adding another life to that growing list was not the right call. Even without evidence, about that, Laura was adamant, her personal belief as strong as the metal that coated her claws.

  
“But if he follows us—“ Rebecca started in an attempt to convince.   
  
“He won’t,” Laura cut in.  
  
“Fine.” Huffily conceding for now, Rebecca took one last look at Fade, petulantly rolling her eyes before setting them back on Laura. She couldn’t have been much older than her, if she was older at all, but the way she spoke and conducted herself made it seem like she was. Still, from what Rebecca could tell, Laura was helping purely to help, not because she wanted something in exchange, unlike the Inner Circle.  
  
With that, Laura released her hold on Rebecca’s, then set off down the alleyway, expecting the other young mutant to follow, “Stay close.”


End file.
